"Whither my heart is gone, there follows my hand and not
elsewhere."
Longfellow.
We will pass briefly over the events of the next five years, during
which there were few changes in the Keith family but such as time must
bring to all.
The lines had deepened somewhat on Mr. Keith's brow and the hair on his
temples was growing gray. The anxieties and burdens of life pressed
more heavily upon him than upon his lighter-hearted, more trustful
wife; she having learned more fully than he to "lean hard" upon the
Lord, casting all her care upon him, in the full assurance that he
cared for her and "that all things work together for good to them
that love God;" she looked scarcely a day older than at the time of
Mildred's return from her visit to Roselands.
These had been years of toil and struggle to feed, clothe, and educate
their large family of children. They had thus far been successful, but
only by dint of good management, close economy, and hard work.
Rupert had completed his college course and gone into the drug business
in connection with Dr. Grange.
It was a great joy to Mildred that her earnings as music teacher had
assisted largely in paying the expense of her brother's education.
Rupert found it hard to consent to this, but finally did so with the
distinct understanding that he was to repay the money with interest.
"The sisterly kindness," he said, "I can never repay."
"Yes," Mildred returned, with an arch look and smile, "you can; by
showing, in like manner, brotherly kindness to Cyril and Don."
"As I certainly hope to do," Rupert responded with hearty good-will.
And now he and Mildred were pleasing themselves with the thought that
the worst of the struggle was over. Zillah and Ada were done with
school, though still pursuing some studies with Mildred at home; it had
been decided that Fan and Annis could and should be entirely educated
by the older sisters; and so Cyril and Don were the only ones whose
tuition would still be an item of expense to the parents--an expense of
which the good daughter and son each hoped to bear a part.
Rupert would be able to do so after awhile--"by the time the lads were
ready for college"--and Mildred could assist now; as she was still
teaching, and finding it more profitable than ever.
It sometimes seemed weary work, but she would not give it up; indeed,
the joy of helping to bear the burdens of the dear father and mother
far more than repaid her for her self-denying toil.
The town had grown very much, and one of the new-comers was a music
teacher; but Mildred had established a good reputation, and had always
as many pupils as she cared to take.
In all these years she had heard not a word from Charlie Landreth; yet
her heart remained true to him.
She did not seclude herself from society, but generally took part in
the innocent pastimes of the young people of her own station, and was
always cheerful and pleasant, not seldom even gay and lively; now
and then she accepted the escort of one or another of her gentlemen
friends, but she would not receive particular attentions from any.
Still one or two had determinately sought her hand in marriage, but
only to meet with a gentle yet firm rejection.
Wallace Ormsby still continued on the most friendly terms of intimacy
in the family, and after two years had passed without news of his
favored rival, ventured to renew his suit. The result of this effort
convinced him of the utter hopelessness of ever winning the coveted
prize. He grieved over this second disappointment for a time, but of
late had begun to turn his longing eyes in a new direction, and Mildred
perceived it with pleasure.
Wallace had been taken into partnership with Mr. Keith, and she would
gladly welcome him into the family, for she had, as she had said, a
truly sisterly affection for him.
Zillah and Ada were budding into very lovely womanhood. Of the two,
Zillah was the more strikingly handsome and the more sprightly; full
of innocent mirth and gayety, witty and quick at repartee, she was the
life of every company of which she formed a part.
Ada's manner was more quiet and reserved, but suited well with her
intellectual countenance and the noble contour of her features. They
were inseparable, and whenever opportunity offered Wallace Ormsby was
sure to be with them.
Speculation was rife among the gossips of the town as to which "he
was courting," or whether it might be that he was in love with both.
Mildred, with her better opportunities for observation, and vision
sharpened by keen sisterly affection, presently settled that question
in her own mind, and satisfied herself that in this instance the course
of true love was likely to run smooth.
The little coterie of which Mildred and Wallace had formed a part was
broken up--the other four having paired off for life; it was known now
that Claudina Chetwood was engaged to Yorke Mocker, and Lucilla Grange
to Will Chetwood.
It was the afternoon for the meeting of the ladies' sewing society.
They were preparing a box of clothing for a Western home missionary.
The whole Keith family took a deep interest in the good work; each one
had contributed toward it; the three older girls were at the meeting,
busily plying their needles, while at home the mother was finishing a
garment, the two little girls sitting beside her hemming towels: all
for the box.
Indeed, the interest was very general in the church, and there was a
goodly gathering of ladies in Mrs. Prior's parlor, where the society
held its meeting this week. The room was large and the busy workers had
grouped themselves together here and there as inclination dictated:
Mildred, Claudina, and Lu forming one group; Zillah, Ada, and several
of their young companions another; while a third was composed of older
ladies.
The three heads in the first group were very close together, the three
voices conversing earnestly in tones too subdued to give any of the
others an inkling of the subject of their talk. But there were wise
surmises.
"I reckon they're planning for the weddings," whispered one elderly
lady to her next neighbor, indicating by a motion of the head whom she
meant.
"Likely," was the rejoinder. "Do you know when they're to come off?"
"No; but before long, I guess. I don't see that there's anything to
wait for."
"Unless for Mildred and Wallace Ormsby to make it up together, so that
the whole six can pair off at once and so make a triple wedding. It
would be a novel and pretty idea, now wouldn't it?"
"Yes; and I used to think that would be a match, but I've changed my
mind. It's plain to be seen now that it's one of the younger sisters
he's after."
"Mildred's young enough; doesn't look a day over twenty, though I
suppose she's really twenty-three or four."
"About that, I suppose; but she could easily pass for eighteen. I
wonder if she's made up her mind to be an old maid. If I can read the
signs Wallace was deeply in love with her at one time; and it's said
she's had other offers."
"I don't doubt it; she's too charming to have escaped that, if the
young men have any taste. Yet she's not so handsome, after all, as
Zillah. I wonder why she wouldn't have Wallace; he's fine-looking, and
an excellent match every way."
"Perhaps she left her heart in the South. I've thought I could see a
change in her ever since her visit there. Well, I don't believe her
mother's in any hurry to have her marry and leave, for there never was
a better daughter or sister. I've heard Mrs. Keith say more than once
that she didn't know how she could ever do without Mildred."
"And she may well say so," joined in Mrs. Prior; "the other two are
uncommon nice girls, but Mildred bears off the palm to my thinking. I
hear folks wondering now and then how it is that Mr. Lord has lived
single all these years. I don't profess to know anything for certain
about it, but I've strong suspicions that he's tried for Mildred Keith
and couldn't get her, and can't be content to take anybody else."
"She seems cut out for a minister's wife," remarked one of the others.
"Yes; she'd make a good one, I don't doubt," assented Mrs. Prior; "but
I don't blame her for refusing him (if she has done it); it's a kind of
a hard life, and he's too old for her and too absented-minded and odd."
The girls--Mildred and her mates--were talking over the arrangements
for the approaching nuptials. The young men wanted a double wedding and
the girls were not averse to the idea, but the parents of each wanted
to see their own daughter married beneath their own roof.
"My father says the ceremony ought to be performed in his house,
since one of the contracting parties in each case is his child," said
Claudina; "but Dr. Grange can't see the force of the argument."
"No," said Lu, "both he and mother say that it is always at the house
of the bride's parents the ceremony should be performed."
"Can't you compromise by having it in the church?" asked Mildred.
"That is what we'll have to do, I presume," said Claudina, "if we are
to have a double wedding. And O Mildred! if you and Wallace would only
make up a match and let us have a triple one, I think it would be just
splendid."
"And so do I," chimed in Lu. "Now what's to hinder?"
"A good deal," replied Mildred with a smile and a blush. "I doubt if it
wouldn't make three or four people unhappy for life."
"What can you mean! I've been perfectly sure for years past that
Wallace adored you," was Claudina's surprised exclamation.
Mildred's only reply was a quiet smile.
"And I dare say he must have popped the question before this," Claudina
went on teasingly; "so now do be good and obliging enough to fall in
with my plan, for it's a capital one. Isn't it, Lu?"
"Oh! just lovely," was the eager rejoinder. "Mildred, do; that's a
dear!"
"Indeed, girls," Mildred said, her eyes dancing with merriment, "I
do like to oblige, but in this instance it is beyond the bounds of
possibility. Whatever you may think, Wallace does not want me, nor I
him."
"Well, then, all I have to say is that neither of you has good taste.
And I'd set my heart on the match," Claudina said in pretended
indignation.
Meantime the younger girls were chatting gayly among themselves,
flitting lightly from one theme to another--school affairs, pleasure
parties, dress, and beaux; teasing each other about the latter, as
young girls will.
Zillah and Ada came in for their share. "Which of them was Wallace
Ormsby courting?" they were asked.
"Probably both," Ada answered in a tone of irony. "He is a man of
original ideas, and doesn't always do things by rule."
"And he knows we can't live apart," added Zillah, blushing and smiling.
"Nonsense! he can't marry you both. Now which of you is it?"
"Suppose you ask him," returned Zillah, the color deepening still more
on her cheek.
"I declare I've a great mind to! I believe I'll do it to-night, if I
get a chance," returned her tormentor laughingly.
It was the custom for the ladies to come to the society as early in the
afternoon as practicable, stay to a plain tea and until nine or ten
o'clock in the evening, the gentlemen joining them for the last hour or
two--an arrangement which served the double purpose of interesting the
latter in the good work in a way to draw forth their contributions, and
to provide escorts for the ladies on their homeward walk.
There was a full attendance that evening. Among the early arrivals
came Nicholas Ransquattle, bowing low, right and left, as he entered
the room. "Good-evening, ladies. I'm happy to see you all." Then
straightening himself and throwing back his head (now grown very bald)
upon his shoulders in the old, awkward fashion, he sent his dull gray
eyes searchingly about the room.
"He's looking for you," Zillah's next neighbor whispered in her ear. "I
heard the other day that he said down town, talking with some of the
fellows, that he was going to cut Wallace Ormsby out. And there, just
see! he's making straight for this corner. You ought to feel proud of
your conquest, Zil."
"Not till I'm sure I've made it, Sallie; no, not even then," Zillah
returned somewhat scornfully; "since I should be but one among the
multitude of his adorable angels."
Sallie laughed and nodded assent, as Nicholas drew up a chair and
seated himself between them.
It was the common report that he had courted every girl of marriageable
age in the town, offering heart and hand to each in succession as they
moved into the place or grew to young maidenhood. No one had accepted
him yet; he had never been attractive to the softer sex, and did not
become more so with advancing years. Behind his back the girls were
unsparing in their ridicule of his awkward carriage, homely features,
and unbounded vanity and self-conceit. They had dubbed him "Old Nick"
and "The Bald Eagle."
"Permit your humble servant to be a thorn between two roses, ladies,"
he said with another low bow as he seated himself.
"Provided you are a useful one, Mr. Ransquattle," replied Sallie,
giving him a needle to thread. "They are of use sometimes, I suppose."
"Yes, Miss Rush, to protect the roses, which I shall be most happy to
do."
"Protect them from what?" asked Zillah dryly.
"From rude and careless hands that would fain pluck them from the
parent stem; perchance only to cast them neglectfully aside and let
them die." And Nicholas glanced significantly toward Ormsby, who had
entered the room at that moment, and was bidding "Good-evening" to
their hostess.
Wallace caught the glance, noted by whom Ransquattle was seated, and
flushed angrily.
"Roses must die whether plucked or not," remarked Sallie, "and the
fingers that pluck them save them from wasting their sweetness on the
desert air."
"You'll never be left to so sad a fate, Miss Rush," was the gallant
rejoinder.
"I don't know," she replied, laughing and shaking her head, "there may
be some danger if the thorns are too close when the gatherer of roses
comes."
Wallace had found a seat near Mildred, and she noticed that as he
talked with her he stole many a furtive and ill-pleased glance in
Zillah's direction.
Mildred was folding up her work.
"You are not going yet," he said. "It wants a full half hour of the
usual time for dispersing."
"I know, but Mrs. Smith is very sick, and I have promised to watch with
her to-night."
"Milly, I'm going home," Ada said, coming up at that instant. "Mother
will be lonely, perhaps, and I can work just as well there as here."
"But I must go now, and we must not leave Zillah to go home alone."
"No, but Ru will be here directly I--"
"Let me have the pleasure of escorting you both, and I'll come back for
Zillah," said Wallace, speaking hastily in an undertone.
His offer was accepted, and the three slipped quietly away. Mrs.
Smith's house was the nearer, and not much out of the way in going to
Mr. Keith's; so Mildred was seen to her destination first, then Wallace
and Ada walked on to hers.
Wallace expected to leave her at the door, and returning in good
season, ask the privilege of seeing Zillah safely home also; but Mr.
Keith called him in, saying he had an important matter to consult him
about, and in spite of the young man's ill-concealed impatience to be
gone, kept him there for more than an hour.
In the mean time Ransquattle made good use of his opportunity; managing
so that, to Zillah's extreme vexation, she could not reject his offered
escort without great rudeness.
"Forewarned, forearmed," she said to herself, thinking of Sallie's
gossip as they set out: "'twill go hard with me, but I'll prevent his
getting his opportunity to-night;" and she rattled on in the liveliest
strain without an instant's intermission, talking the most absurd
nonsense just to prevent her companion from opening his lips.
They had reached her father's gate before he succeeded in doing so. She
had no notion of asking him in.
"Good-night, Mr. Ransquattle," she said gayly, letting go his arm and
stepping hastily inside as he held the gate open for her. "I'm much
obliged for your trouble."
"Excuse me, Miss Zillah, for detaining you a moment, but I have
something very particular to tell you," he said, hardly waiting for the
end of her sentence. "You are a very lovely and charming young lady."
"Oh, that's no news! I've heard it dozens of times," she interrupted,
laughing and taking a backward step as if on the point of running away.
"No doubt; but never, I am sure, from so devoted an admirer as your
humble servant. Miss Zillah, I lay my heart, hand, and fortune at your
feet."
"Oh don't Mr. Ransquattle," she interrupted again, half-recoiling as
she spoke; "it's a dangerous place to lay articles so valuable, lest
perchance they should be accidentally trodden on."
"Can you have misunderstood me?" he asked, as it would seem in some
surprise at her obtuseness. "I meant to ask you to marry me. Will you?
But don't answer now. Take time to consider, and I will call to-morrow
to learn my fate from the sweetest lips in the world."
He was bowing an adieu; but now she detained him. Drawing herself up
with dignity, and speaking in a calm, cold tone of firm determination,
"No, do not call, Mr. Ransquattle," she said: "I need no time to
consider the question you have asked, and will give you your answer
now. I can never bestow my heart upon you, and therefore never my hand.
Good-night, sir;" and turning, she hastened with a quick, light step
toward the house.
In the hall she met Wallace, who had just left her father in the
sitting-room busy over some law papers.
"Zillah!" he exclaimed, "what is it? what has happened?"
"Why do you ask? why do you think anything has happened?" she returned,
half averting her face.
"Because you look so flushed and indignant. If anybody has been
insulting you--"
"O Wallace, what nonsense!" she cried, with a little nervous laugh.
"Well, I'm glad if it is not so," he said. "I hope no one would dare. I
meant to go back to the society directly, hoping to have the pleasure
of seeing you home, but was unavoidably detained. It's early yet
though, and such a lovely moonlight evening. Won't you take a little
stroll with me?"
"If you'll wait a moment till I tell mother we're going."
Mildred, finding she was not needed at Mrs. Smith's, had returned home
and was just ready for bed; had blown out her candle and was standing
by the window gazing out and thinking how lovely everything looked
in the moonlight, when her door opened softly and the next instant
Zillah's arms were about her neck, her face half hidden on her shoulder.
"How you tremble!" Mildred said, putting an arm around the slender
waist; "has anything gone wrong?"
"O Milly, such a funny time as I've had in the last hour or two!" and
the eyes that looked up into Mildred's face were fairly dancing with
merriment. "I seem destined to play second fiddle to you, so far as
the admiration of the other sex is concerned; having actually received
proposals of marriage from two of your old beaux in this one evening."
"Indeed! Well, I hope you did not accept both," Mildred said
laughingly.
"Not both, but one," she whispered with a low, joyous laugh, and a
blush that was visible even in the moonlight. "O Milly, I'm so happy!
I don't care if I am taking what you refused. Wallace is far beyond my
deserts, and I wouldn't exchange him for a king."
"Wallace! O Zillah, how glad I am! I need no longer feel remorseful for
having wrecked his happiness, and shall rejoice to call him brother: he
will be one to be proud of."
"Yes; I am obliged to you for rejecting him; and I dare say so is he
now," she added saucily, her eyes again dancing with fun.
"I don't doubt it. And now perhaps there'll be a triple wedding after
all."
"What are you talking about?" returned Zillah in astonishment; "'tisn't
time to be thinking of weddings yet."
"It would be too soon," Mildred said, and went on to explain the
occasion of her remark; then said, "But you haven't told me whose was
the other offer."
"Oh, can't you guess?" laughed Zillah; "don't you know that the Bald
Eagle is still in quest of a mate?"
"Old Nick was it? Now then you must just tell the whole story," Mildred
said in a tone of amusement.
"'Twas quite a variation from his offer to you," Zillah answered
mirthfully, and went on to give a detailed and amusing account of the
walk home and the short colloquy at the gate.
Then bidding good-night she hastened to her own room, shared with Ada,
and repeated the story to her, winding up with, "Your turn will come,
you may depend upon that; so try to be prepared."
"Small need of preparation," was the cool rejoinder. "But you've had a
walk with Wallace since. Won't you tell me what he said."
"I couldn't begin to remember it all, but--Ada, darling, can you spare
me to him?"
The last words were spoken in a tremulous half-whisper, her arm about
her sister's neck, her lips close to her ear.
"I knew 'twould come to that before long!" sighed Ada, with a hug and
a kiss, while tears sprang to her eyes. "O Zillah, dear, I believe my
happiest days are over and gone!"
"No! No! no, darling! the very, very sweetest are yet to come! Love
will be yours some day as it is mine to-night; and
'There's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.'"